Call It Vanity
by linggan
Summary: Genesis knows that something about this new Turk is a bit off.  Well, more than that ridiculous hairstyle anyway.  Timetravel!Cloud/Genesis
1. Chapter 1

ch. 1. call it vanity.

o.o

Truth. Okay.

So, maybe Genesis wasn't _supposed_ to be on this floor (in fact, there might have been some executive function he was _supposed_ to attend), but what could Lazard possibly do? Put him on some crummy mission? Even supervising cadets would be better than sitting in some ridiculous, pretentious meeting that had nothing to do with him. Well, maybe not that part about the supervising cadets was true, as the current trainees were _horrendou_s, but besides that, Genesis was fairly confident he could handle whatever attempt at discipline the older man would foist on him.

And then a chocobo suddenly mauled him over.

It all happened too fast for Genesis to even comprehend; one moment, he was lounging around the hallway, (and if he recalled correctly, a hallway that _should_ have been empty considering the time of day), when out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a flash of something spiky and yellow; for a second, he had thought it was a chocobo. In hindsight, he should reacted better, but the absurdity of it all (honestly, a_ chocobo_? On one of Shinra's top executive floors?) seemed to have stunned him.

Then, he felt a large weight _slam_ into him. He didn't even have time to react; his hands were grasping at anything to hold at this point and somehow seemed to find their way onto something warm and breathing. For a moment, the world swung below him in a dizzying fashion.

And then it righted itself.

"Sorry," the chocobo said—no, it wasn't a chocobo. It was a_ man_. And the man was holding him upright, kept him from falling. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

Genesis quickly broke out of the stranger's grasp and gave him a quick, cursory glance. The man was dressed as a technician (which, for one, definitely did _not_ have clearance for this floor), but Genesis had felt clearly-defined muscles when he had held onto the man, muscles that a mere grunt shouldn't have. And that he hadn't even noticed the man's presence until it was too late? No normal person should have that kind of speed.

However, when Genesis lifted his eyes and looked up into the stranger's oddly dull green eyes, instead of voicing these suspicions as he should have, he instead found another statement coming out of his mouth.

"That is the most _ridiculous_ hairstyle I have ever seen."

A look of incredulity sparked across the man's face and he gave Genesis an appraising glance.

"At least I don't have hips like a teenage girl," the stranger replied without missing even a beat.

Genesis opened his mouth to bite out a scathing reply, but before the sounds could even come out, he heard the sound of rushed footsteps stampeding through the hallways. The sight that met his eyes as he turned to look was so ridiculous, for a moment he briefly thought himself transported into some sitcom comedy. The Turks, looking more harried than he had ever seen then, were rushing to the point of almost tripping over each other, their hair frayed and sticking out in comical fashion. They all were pointing in his direction, and it took Genesis a brief moment to realize that they were yelling at him, telling him to…

_"Stop that man!"_

Genesis turned back to look at the man, who gave him a quick wry smile.

"I'll see you around?"

He wasn't sure exactly what possessed him that second, but in the heat of the moment, as the man turned to begin his escape, Genesis took the very moment to hold out his foot across the man's path. Of course that would never work. This man was obviously competent enough to avoid a single foot if could avoid the Turks. Why hadn't he reached for his materia? His sword? Or just tried to grab the man?

And then he watches as the unthinkable happens: the man, perhaps too concerned with avoiding the Turks bullets, hadn't noticed Genesis movements. A feeling of pride battling with utter disbelief washes over Genesis as he watches the man _actually fall over himself_ as he tripped over Genesis' foot.

The short accident was enough; within seconds, the Turk caught up and had all their guns pointed at the stranger. Yet the man just shrugged and raised his hands in nonchalant surrender, looking completely non-plussed as the Turks grabbed him on the arm and arrested him.

Only Veld seemed to give Genesis any attention, and even his glance was brief, short.

"Thanks for the help."

They were gone before Genesis could even say another word.

o.o

The odd incident ended up bothering Genesis more than it probably should have. Throughout the week, he found himself returning to the incident, for some reason unable to let it go. Perhaps he was just curious as to find out what kind of man could evade the Turks so easily. Perhaps it was just the comment on his figure (_hourglass_, Genesis found himself, in his mind, correcting the man belatedly in biting tones. _and women find it attractive, which is more than I can say for that mess on your head_).

But the Turks had gone completely underground; he hadn't even able to find an operative to grill for information.

At least, not until the next mission Lazard ended up assigning to him.

"How did _you_ of all people end up being the new Turk recruit?" Genesis gave the man a look-over, still a little surprised to see the chocobo-head that had ran over him just the week before all dressed up like a Turk. Genesis almost would've been impressed by how well the suit fit the man if he wasn't so surprised. "If I recall correctly, last time I saw you, the Turks were in the processing of arresting you."

The man shrugged. "They were impressed by my skills. Wanted to hire me."

"Yeah?" Genesis raised an eyebrow. "What skills were those?"

A small smirk graced the man's face. "Evasion."

"I see."

Genesis decided not to mention the circumstances that brought about the man's capture. Instead, Genesis turned away and looked outside, barely paying attention as the sights of Midgar quickly flashed by the train. Lazard had told him the mission was just a simple monster extermination, and that his role would only be to supervise the new Turk recruit. He had been a little confused as to why _he_ out of all people was chosen for the job, but now seeing who the new Turk was, it made a little more sense. Or maybe Lazard was finally getting back at him for skipping out on the executive function.

"Hey, what's your name?" Genesis asked after a while, when he finally realized he actually didn't know how to address the stranger sitting across from him.

The man paused, as if still getting used to his new alias. "Fenrir. …And yours?"

Genesis snorted. "As if you don't know."

"Just being polite," Fenrir returned, seemingly unconcerned with Genesis' contemptuous tone. "Besides, you're my superior for this mission. How should I properly address you?"

Genesis paused, a little surprised by the man's question. Most men that he commanded, even the ones far older than him, had automatically defaulted to using 'Commander Rhapsodos', out of a mix of fear and respect. But this man was different, utterly indifferent to their difference in rank and age, to the point that he even asked what a proper address would be. Yet, strangely enough, Genesis found he didn't want to assert his rank over this man, wanted to see what would happen if he didn't. So finally, after a long a moment, he answered, "Genesis… will do."

If Fenrir felt any shock at the casual address, he didn't show it. Instead, he just nodded. "Nice to work with you, Genesis."

Genesis felt himself twitch slightly at hearing the older man say his name, if only at the unfamiliarity of hearing it from someone other than Angeal and Sephiroth. "'Fenrir' is quite the mouthful of a name," he found himself asking. " Did you choose it yourself?"

The man gave a crooked smile. "Believe me. It's _far_ better than my real name."

Genesis cast a look at the man's dreadful hairstyle. He didn't doubt it.

o.o

_Baby-sitting mission_, that's what Lazard had called it. Genesis bit back a growl as the phrase came back to him with irritatingly perfect clarity. Baby-sitting mission, just to see how the new recruit takes care of some escaped specimens. Nothing much.

Lazard, of course, hadn't mentioned that the 'some escaped specimens' were actually a horde of escaped, enhanced, and very angry zoloms.

_Screw you_, Lazard, Genesis found himself thinking furiously. _Screw you and your stupid, little omissions. When I come back, I'll swear, I will fucking burn down—_

But he couldn't even complete that thought, and jumped back to escape a blow.

Soon, Genesis found himself back to back with Fenrir, gritting his teeth as he blocked off another dangerous strike. Fenrir, while still holding up and dodging the moves surprisingly well, seemed to be struggling a bit with his gun, which left most of the work to Genesis.

"You doing okay?" Genesis called out to Fenrir.

"I don't know," the man replied, his voice strained yet somehow nonchalant at the same time. "If one more shows up…"

Genesis grinned, thanking the Goddess that at least the man wasn't one of those pathetic fighters that lost their cool easily. "_Honestly_," he drawled in mock disdain. "Recruits these days are fucking _useless_."

The man behind him chuckled. "Oh? You mean you're fighting too?"

Feeling charged up from their short banter, Genesis raised his rapier and began his offensive again, trusting that Fenrir would be able to handle himself for a bit. He charged, hoping he'd be able to take at least down before regrouping with his partner again; but even he couldn't keep up.

Just as Genesis held off the brunt of one attack, a tail whipped out of no where and hit his head straight on. He could feel his sword being knocked out of his hand, and pair of strong arms just catching hold of him as he feel, but already his vision was starting to blur out. He was barely conscious when he felt himself put down against something sturdy—a stump? A tree?

A whisper cut through the haze, just for a moment.

"Let me borrow your sword for a while," said the whisper.

Then there was darkness.

o.o

Note: yes, I did very much steal that fighting scene from Kingdom Hearts II. But I love it, I love it, I love it; seriously, it's the sole reason why the second game is better than the first. _That scene alone._

Also, I'd like to note, **I would very much love some criticism**. This isn't just fishing for compliments, I swear. If there are any areas that need work, dialogue, description, please leave me a comment about it. Thanks so much. :)


	2. Chapter 2

ch. 2. call it vanity

.o.

If there was one thing he didn't expect to see upon waking up, it was a beautiful woman tending to his wounds. After that initial reaction registered though, Genesis realized that there were several more things he didn't expect to see. For example, there was the bed that was obviously not the medical wing's scratchy, uncomfortable mess of a thing. Then there was the walls, which were a rather pale shade of pink that unnerved him slightly. Finally, there was the T-shirt and boxers that Genesis was quite sure he hadn't been wearing before.

"Who are you," he asked, his voice coming out rougher than he had meant it to. "Where am I?"

The woman immediately flew back in shock, her eyes looking at him in a slight fear. "Oh! You're... awake. I didn't notice. Wait a moment, let me get him."

"Who?" Genesis pressed. But she was already gone, and he was left in the odd room all alone. For a moment, Genesis had half a mind to follow her, but when he tried to get up, he found his stomach exploding in pain. The pain jolted a spark of lucidity into him and suddenly, the dreamlike feel of the room was gone as he felt his body shake from the agony. A brief flashback of a zolom slicing its tail into his stomach flitted across his mind; but shouldn't he have healed by now?

"You alright?"

When Genesis looked up, he found Fenrir by his side, murky green eyes looking over him in concern. Genesis pulled back a bit, feeling self-conscious at the older man's attention and immediately crossed his arms, ignoring his pain as he drew himself up.

"I'm fine," he said shortly. "What happened?"

The man drew back, seeming satisfied that Genesis wasn't on the verge on death or something of the like, and began to explain. "When you…fell, I figured it was better to retreat. It was a little difficult, but we made it."

"You ran away from a horde of zoloms," Genesis said in disbelief. "All the while carrying me. On _foot_."

Fenrir gave a small grin."I told you; I'm good at running away."

The image was just too hard to believe, but Genesis knew he had no way of knowing if the man was telling the truth. So instead, he looked around the room in suspicion. "And where am I now?"

"My room."

Genesis blanched. "Your room… is pink," he noted in disgust.

The other man shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "I like it."

Genesis opened his mouth to question how any man would ever like pink, but stopped before he could get carried away. There were more important questions to ask. "And why am I in your room and not the Medical Ward as I should be?"

This seemed to somber the man up and it was the first time that Genesis had ever seen Fenrir hesitate for words. After a few long seconds, he finally said, "You're not healing as fast as you should be."

Genesis narrowed his eyes at the man, irritated by the indirect answer. "So?"

"It's more than that," Fenrir emphasized. "It's not that you're not healing as quickly; you're getting older much quicker, becoming more brittle. It's almost as if your body…" The man took a pause.

"It's almost as if you're _degrading_."

_Degradation._

The phrase struck a chord of uneasiness and rage in Genesis, and suddenly, he _needed_ to get out of there. Despite the stab of pain that every movement cost him, he began to throw off the covers and remove himself from the bed. Degrading. _Him_. It was ridiculous. So he wasn't healing as quickly as a SOLDIER would; he felt _fine_. Who was this stranger to tell him something was wrong with him?

"Where are my clothes?" he asked. Fenrir pointed to the table beside the bed where his clothes were folded neatly. "My rapier?"

"Beside the bed."

It took him only about ten minutes to change back into his usual outfit (which was, thankfully, washed of all the blood) and when he exited the bathroom, Fenrir was still sitting down in the chair next to the bed, looking unsurprised with Genesis' reaction.

"How long have I been here?"

"About two hours." Good. So at least he could still report to Lazard without being too suspicious.

Genesis moved to leave, not even bothering with a farewell, but just as he was about to cross the doorway, Fenrir stopped him with one last remark.

"Shinra won't be able to fix you," the man said. He spoke casually, almost as if talking about the weather. "It's not wise to let them know of your condition."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Genesis gritted out.

Fenrir continued talking, as if Genesis hadn't interrupted him. "And would you really trust the scientists in the Science Department to help you anyway? It only takes one look at Hojo or Hollander to know they're all crazy."

Gensis turned around abruptly. "I don't think you're one to talk about trust, considering that the first time I met you, you were in the process of being _arrested_," he spat out. He wanted to see the man flinch, twitch, anything to give an indication of vulnerability. Yet nothing seemed to shake the other man, Genesis' accusations seeming to fall flat as Fenrir merely looked up, staring directly at him.

"You don't have to trust me," he said quietly. "Just consider what I'm saying."

.o.

Fenrir's last remark had left Genesis in a dizzying state of fury. As Genesis all but stalked his way out of the little apartment, he found himself cursing the man more than he did Lazard hours earlier. It was true that Genesis' first reaction had been to go to Hollander for possible information, but the other man couldn't have _possibly_ known that. And yet the man had warned Genesis away from the Science Department, as if he could read his thoughts.

The though spurred Genesis even further; who was this stranger to suddenly presume he knew all about him?

By the time Genesis had arrived at Lazard's office, he had only cooled down somewhat. Yet the man didn't seem to take notice—he never really took notice of _any_ of Genesis' moods, really—and barely regarded him with a look.

"You won't have to write a report; the one the Turk submitted is sufficient," the man said as soon as Genesis entered his office.

"And what did the Turk say?" Genesis asked suspiciously.

Lazard pushed a paper forward. "Here, you can look it over. Nothing much; he admitted that you did have to step in at one point, but all the specimens were considered too uncontrollable and it was necessary to get rid of all of them."

_He got rid of all of them?_ Genesis picked up the report and skimmed it, which basically followed what Lazard had just said. _He said he ran away…_

Lazard seemed to notice Genesis' uncharacteristic silence and finally gave him a careful, sidelong glance. "Do you disagree with his report?"

Genesis put the paper down and stared Lazard straight in the eye. "Not at all," he said with a straight face. "I'm just curious as to how this man was hired as a Turk after he was caught stealing information."

Lazard gave Genesis a pointed look. "You mean you haven't seen it?"

"It?"

"The videos of his escape." At Genesis' negative response, Lazard nodded in understanding. "See, that's why. Let me tell you, it's _quite_ impressive. If the Turks hadn't snatched him so fast, I might have tried to get him into SOLDIER."

Genesis' felt his eyebrow rise into his hairline. "You can't be serious." When Lazard's look didn't change, he asked, "Talented or not, are none of you afraid of why he was even here in the first place? Why offer him even more clearance?"

"The Turks made a thorough investigation; he was nothing more than just another one of AVALACHE's small pawns. Even gave us a lead on their head scientist, Fuhito. Of course, we're still cautious of him," Lazard assured him. "So that's why we sent him on this mission on you. What we need is a second opinion."

Genesis glared at the man. "And you didn't think to inform me of this earlier?"

"I was hoping to get an unbiased opinion," Lazard explained with a mere shrug. "What do you think? Would you trust this man?"

Genesis paused and gave the man a calculating look. "And if I said no?"

Lazard gave a wry smile. "I would think that the fact that you didn't immediately say no is more than enough." At Genesis' glare, he added calmly, "You hardly trust anyone."

There wasn't anything Genesis could say to that; it was true, but he wasn't about to give the man the satisfaction of acknowledging it. So instead, he moved to turn and dismiss himself. "Fine. If that's all you needed of me…"

"Genesis," Lazard called, stopping him just at the door. "Watch the video. I've just forwarded it to your e-mail."

"Am I supposed to even have access to this?"

"Of course not. But since when has that stopped you?"

.o.

Genesis had barely sat down at his computer and opened up his e-mail when a loud knock resounded at his door. He stalked to the door and was about to growl at whoever thought to bother him when he was off the clock, but to his surprise, the door opened to reveal Angeal and Sephiroth, both waiting expectantly.

Angeal seemed to take note of Genesis' surprise and raised an eyebrow. "Did you forget about dinner?" he said, not sounding surprised.

Genesis stared at Angeal blankly for a moment before it came back to him. Dinner. Right. Tonight was his turn to treat. _Ohshitfuckhecompletlyforgot._

"Look at his reaction," Sephiroth drawled before Genesis could even respond. "Of course he did." The man didn't even wait to be invited in and walked himself in, placing his jacket on the rack as he did. "Guess I'm making dinner _again_."

Angeal followed suit. "Not like I'm complaining," he said nonchalantly.

Genesis bristled at the two of them, though admittedly, Sephiroth's cooking surpassed the both of them by galaxies. "My cooking isn't that _bad_," he protested. "At least I didn't burn the rice like Angeal did last time."

Said man just shrugged uncaringly and made himself comfortable on the couch. Meanwhile, Sephiroth had already begun to raid the kitchen, scoffing and wrinkling his nose at what Genesis could only assume to be the lack of any ingredients that Sephiroth considered up to par. A few seconds later, disgust in his voice, Sephiroth called, "Genesis, do you have _anything_ other than pasta?"

"...Apples?"

Sephiroth just made a noise of frustration and went back to his foraging.

"Genesis, what is _this_?" Angeal asked from the couch, interest in his voice. When Genesis looked to see what Angeal was talking about, he saw that Angeal had caught sight of the open video that Lazard had sent him and was playing it, eyes fastened onto the screen. "Is this supposed to be a movie?"

Genesis came by and sat next to Angeal to watch. "No, it's a video of the new Turk recruit."

"Oh, so they tested his infiltration skills?"

Genesis snorted. "Rather, they hired him because of his infiltration skills," he explained. "He was originally a spy from AVALANCHE apparently and impressed them with his escape."

Angeal only nodded. "I can see why. It's certainly… inspiring."

To his surprise, Genesis also found himself rather impressed with the video. Fenrir, if anything, certainly knew how to move. He knew how to avoid the cameras without arousing suspicion, knew how to blend in like he worked there, and until the moment that he actually took the data and set off the alarms, Genesis wouldn't have even noticed him in the video feed.

But then, when the security guards had finally caught up with him… it was almost breath-taking, how Fenrir had moved to take them out. The man was swift but efficient in his moves, mostly taking out his opponents in one or two moves and never killing anyone in his path. For a moment, Genesis had almost thought the man was holding back. But there was no way that could have been possible—if the man was any faster, or any stronger, he could have easily matched a SOLDIER.

As they came to the end of the video (it seemed that Lazard had edited out how Fenrir had finally been caught), Angeal leaned back, an interested smirk forming on his face. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but that's one Turk I'd love to spar with."

And though he didn't say it, Genesis found himself feeling the same.

.o.

Genesis had _thought_ that by flirting with this Turk he would be able to get access to Fenrir's file. He had _thought _himself lucky when he came across her in the elevator, thinking it would be easy. Out of all of the female operatives, he remembered this one to be the snobby, over-privileged (but unfortunately also capable and _rich_) one that didn't care much for her work. And he wasn't wrong but… oh,_ fuck it_, this woman was annoying as hell. She just kept_ talking_, telling him about her troubles and how it was so _boring_ to be doing desk duty and even asked him about _his_ life, as if he would tell this air-brained ditz anything.

Screw it all, he would never flirt with a woman _ever again_.

But she eventually did let him see the file on Fenrir, and as soon as Genesis opened the flimsy folder, he could see why she hadn't resisted too much. Essentially, there was near _nothing_ on file. Save for details on how the man infiltrated the Science Department as a technician, there was absolutely zilch on the man.

"This is all you have?" Genesis asked incredulously as he looked at the single piece of paper, most the fields blank. "His name?"

"And his age," the woman supplied cheerfully. "See? Denzel Wallace, twenty-five years old."

"Even that is dubious," Genesis muttered. But the Turk just shrugged.

"To be honest, it was kind of scary when we interrogated him," she admitted softly. "I mean, we didn't pull back _any_ stops. Not when it comes to an information breech this serious. We… tortured him. In all senses of the word." She shuddered and didn't seem to want to elaborate on the methods. "But he didn't break. Not once. Just sat there, staring, silent like… like he didn't even feel a thing." She looked at Genesis with a wide-look. "_No one _has ever done that before."

Even Genesis found himself cringing somewhat. "You got _nothing_ from him?"

"Well, after we offered him a good price, he was willing to talk about AVALANCHE and their head scientist, and so far, the information has all checked out." The girl took the file and started to put it back. "With a guy that scary, in the end, it's for the best to try to keep him on this side instead of antagonizing him. We can keep a better eye on him this way if he's on our payroll."

"So you're buying him off with money?"

She closed the cabinet and locked it, her back away from Genesis. "Well. At least for now."

.o.

Genesis knocked the door. Hard.

It just didn't make sense. Nothing about Fenrir made any sense.

Genesis had gone to the scene where the mission had taken place and indeed had found all the zoloms slaughtered, their remains only recognizable because no other monster could possibly leave behind a carcass that large. Which meant Fenrir really _had _defeated the zoloms by himself or had some _very _powerful friends. Adding that to the complete lack of history associated with his name, save for an ominous link with AVALANCHE, and the man's claim about this supposed 'degradation'... it all just unsettled Genesis.

If the Turks weren't going to put more effort to figure this man out, then _he _would.

Genesis gave the door another loud knock and called loudly, "Don't pretend you're not there."

He waited another few seconds, about to hit the door again, when he heard the sound of footsteps scurrying to the door. But Fenrir's steps certainly should not have been that light, and why did it sound like the person was dragging… a_ chair_? No, it couldn't be… was the person _stepping_ onto the chair?

"Hello! I'm sorry, I can't open the door for you," a voice finally chirped from the other side of the wood. Genesis started at the voice; unless the man was secretly a little girl in disguise, that _definitely_ was not Fenrir.

"Who are you? Where's Fenrir?" Genesis asked.

"I can't answer _either_ of your questions!"the voice said happily.

Genesis let out a sound of annoyance. "And what _can _you do?"

"Umm…" The girl seemed a little perplexed for a moment. "Oh! Would you like a chair, sir? You can wait until Mama is out of the shower."

For a moment, he opened his mouth, about to threaten to burn the door down, but stopped. Obviously, that probably wouldn't do much good. Besides, it was just a little girl, not some dangerous gangster. Still, how did he always seem to get into the most _absurd_ situations when it came to Fenrir? But he didn't seem to have any better options anyway, so he finally let out a reluctant, "Fine."

The chair was out was just as he finished the sentence, his eye barely catching sight of the small hand before the door slammed on him loudly.

"Enjoy!"

For a moment, Genesis could only stare at the chair in utter incredulity and reluctance, but finally, he sat himself down and took out his copy of LOVELESS. He wasn't even five minutes into the play when the girl interrupted him.

"Are you reading something? I hear pages turning." When Genesis didn't answer, she continued to ask, "What are you reading?"

"Just a play," Genesis answered shortly, hoping she wouldn't ask anything further and would just let him read.

"What's it about?"

Genesis sighed. "It's.. a love story."

The girl made a noise of delight. "I _love_ romance stories! Will you read it to me?"

She couldn't have been serious, right? What did she think he was, some babysitter hired to read her a bedtime story? He opened his mouth, just about to tell her off, but before he could get the words out, the girl had continued the talk.

"Well, you don't have to if you don't want to," she said simply, as if it was obvious. Genesis, expecting pleading and whining as he had observed in so many other children that he had come across, even in kids as old as the cadets, found himself a little startled at her statement.

"…Fine," he found himself saying before he realized the word was out of his mouth.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself almost enjoying reading to the girl. Unlike some of his other colleagues, she actually seemed rather interested in the text, suggesting her own interpretations, and Genesis found he didn't mind explaining the more difficult prose as he went on. He suddenly realized that until he had met this quirky girl, he had never truly had the chance to have a dialogue about the play with anyone else, had never met another person as interested as he was in the story.

However, their conversation was abruptly cut short when he heard the sound of a door being opened. A woman's voice sounded through the door, though muffled and distant.

"Aerith, sweetie, what are you doing next to the door?"

.o.

Note: So, I guess now you can figure out Genesis' age, if you want to do the math. Yeah. There's a _bit _of an age gap between him and Cloud. But at least he's legal, mmkay?

Anyway, thank you for the wonderful response to the first chapter! Again, if there's anything that seems a little weak, please do not hesitate to give me some constructive criticism.

And thank you to Lady of the Muses, who has kindly looked over this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**ch. 3. call it vanity**

**.o.**

"There's a man outside waiting for Uncle!" The girl replied back. There was a sudden explosion of footsteps, stopping abruptly at the door. Then, a second later, the door opened, revealing the woman who had tended to his wounds the day before. Her face carried a slightly frenzied look, strands of messy, wet hair slapped along her face.

"It's just you," she noted, and Genesis observed how the woman kept a protective arm around a girl-presumably, Aerith. Her reaction showed some kind of fear—and by the look of her relief from realizing who he was, it was probably fear of _someone_. Interesting. "Fenrir's not here. Would you like to come in and wait for him?"

"That would be… nice," Genesis said.

As the woman stepped inside to let him in, he saw her bend over to the little girl and whisper in a hushed voice, "What did I tell you about talking to strangers?"

"I checked the peephole first! And besides, he's not a stranger," the girl said defensively. "He was here just yesterday!"

Even Genesis found himself impressed with the girl's logic. She was cute. Almost.

Minutes later, when he was sitting on the living room couch as the woman poured him a cup of tea, he found himself looking over the pair. The girl had called Fenrir her uncle and this woman was apparently her mother… so did that make the two Fenrir's sister and niece? They certainly all had the same bright, straw-coloured hair, but when Genesis had looked at the older woman's eyes, her eyes were a vivid, bright emerald; compared to Fenrir's muddy green eyes, the woman's eye colour seemed as bright as a supernova and far more… _real_, oddly enough.

The woman sat herself down across from him and gave him a polite, smile. "I'm afraid we didn't introduce ourselves last time. I apologize, that was rude of me." She gave him an embarrassed smile. "I was just a bit startled when Fenrir suddenly brought you home." She held out a hand. "My name is Ifalna. And you are…?"

Genesis took the hand somewhat gingerly. "It's Genesis."

"Nice to meet you, Genesis," Ifalna said. She gestured toward the room where the girl had gone to amuse herself. "And I believe you met my daughter, Aerith?"

Despite himself, he let out an amused chuckle as he remembered the girl's interesting antics. "Yes, she was… quite the doorkeeper."

Ifalna smiled. "Aerith can be a little peculiar," she agreed, yet looked proud of the fact. "Anyway, how are you doing? Are your wounds any better?"

"I'm… fine," Genesis answered stiffly, regarding the woman with a suspicious look. "How much do you know about... what happened yesterday?"

"Everything," came Ifalna's unhesitant answer. "You're a SOLDIER with enhanced fighting skills, but something is causing your body to degrade and heal slower. You are becoming weaker with every second, whether you like it or not."

With each word that came out of the woman's mouth, Genesis felt himself drawing back tensely until he completely upright, hand lingering slowly to where he knew his rapier could be easily reached. "And what of Fenrir's intentions? What does he get out of helping me?" he asked, his voice low.

If the woman felt any sort of fear at his interrogative tone, she didn't show it. "That's not for me to tell." Genesis narrowed his eyes, about to retort but the woman continued on talking calmly. "But I can tell you who I am."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means I'll give you a reason to trust _me_."

He couldn't look away; suddenly, something about this woman screamed power, despite her unassuming frame and demure posture. The way she looked at him, he could almost swear that she could probably read his every shiver if she wanted to. Unnerved by the sudden feeling of self-consciousness, he straightened up even more, determined not to let any of it get to him.

"Fine," he let out in a uncaring voice. "Tell me."

"Despite our appearances, Aerith and I are in no way related to Fenrir," she began. "In fact, before two months, I didn't even know who he was. But then, one day, he suddenly showed up in the Science Department and helped the two of us escape. He forged the proper papers , gave us new identities, and even provided us a home to live."

"The Science Department?" Genesis interrupted. "You don't mean, _ShinRa's_ Science Department."

"The very one," Ifalna confirmed.

"Why were you escaping from there?" he asked in incredulity. "You make it sound as if the Science Department was keeping people _captive_."

Ifalna merely held out her hand as a response. "Take my hand."

For some reason, Genesis only took the barest of moments to hesitate, before his hand was clasped in hers. Suddenly, a symphony of sounds were coursing through his veins. He felt alive yet dead at the same time, and it was almost like… there was _singing_ in the background. Behind his eyes, he saw flashes of green, faces, voices, holding onto him, clamouring into him, filling him up—he abruptly pulled his hand back, tremours wracking his entire arm. He was suddenly short of breath, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Without even realizing it, he found himself inching back from the woman, who looked relatively unshaken by it all.

"What you just felt was the Planet talking to you," she explained.

"How…?" Genesis was barely even able to get that word past his throat. The Goddess. He had just felt the Goddess flowing through him and it was _terrifying_. Ifalna, however, was anything but the image of a benevolent goddess. In that moment, eyes bright and fiery, she suddenly seemed the very incarnation of penultimate power, the type that could take breath away with just a single word . It took Genesis his every ounce of pride to keep from leaving the apartment that second.

"It's simple," she said. "Aerith and I are the last of the Ancients."

She didn't even need to tell him; that moment before, feeling the life of the Planet rushing through his every vein, that had been more than enough explanation. But it didn't make sense. Why was she exposing herself to him? What did she get from it?

It him a few seconds longer to get his shudders under control and feel the breath return him, but when it did, he didn't waste any time and looked straight her. "Why are you telling me this," he asked, paranoia lacing his every word.

"I can help you," Ifalna said. "You felt it too, didn't you? The little discordant part of yourself?"

He only sneered at that, determined not to let this woman that he had only met minutes ago to get the best of him. He wasn't about to admit that he _had_ felt something, something inside himself clawing in agony as the woman held his hand.

"You don't think I can't betray you? Turn you in to Shinra?"

Ifalna's smile only widened, the gleam in her eye only seemed to becoming sharper. She took a sip of her tea slowly. "No," she finally said, "you can't. Because I know your secret as well, remember?"

It was starting to grate on him, all this foolishness with his 'sickness', his 'secret'. He was _fine_; he could still beat out all the SOLDIER Seconds without even a sweat. The only thing that probably kept him from walking out was just his pure curiosity to learn the woman's motivations. "Fine," Genesis responded with a scoff. "If that were even true, tell me this: why are trying to help me?"

"You're not the only one with this sickness, Genesis."

Genesis narrowed his eyes. "So you're trying to make me some sort of lab rat, seeing if you can 'cure' this supposed disease, then? Before you help whoever else there is?" He let out a harsh laugh. "I'd be better off going to Shinra!"

Ifalna sighed and put her teacup down. Genesis tensed up as she reached under the table for something, but seconds later revealed she was only bringing out a laptop. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this…" she said with a regretful look. She took a few seconds to sign herself onto the computer, before turning it around.

All Genesis saw were a bunch of documents. "What is this?" he said with a look of disdain.

"It's the details of Project G." She pushed the laptop forward to him. "You need to see this."

Genesis put barely any effort into skimming the documents, only seeing the Science Department's usual obfuscation of protocol mixed with unnecessary amounts of scientific jargon. Even by the end up the several-page long article, he still didn't grasp what the project was about (though, he honestly wasn't putting all that much effort into it either), and was ready to turn the laptop back over with his usual scorn, when he found one paragraph that caught his eye.

_As of yet, there doesn't seem be any prolonged reaction to the cells inserted; however, there is a possibility that the body may latently reject the foreign bodies. We, as of yet, cannot predict any certain outcomes, though there are theories, the extreme of which predicting that the body may begin to decay faster after being forced to outperform its usual standards for so long. As the current specimens of Project G have become along SOLDIER Firsts along Project S, this will certainly produce ample data to study this. _

Genesis found himself stopping, his heart seeming to pause. There were only _three_ Firsts, including him. If Project S could be assumed to mean Sephiroth… then the only other person could be…

"This is fake," he said angrily and closed the laptop screen down. "You're saying I was part of some sick experiment from the start?"

Ifalna gave him an amused look. "You think I would make up all that drivel just to _fool_ you? You think I would have the patience or the time?"

"It can't be true," Genesis insisted nonetheless. "This is absurd."

"If you wish to attempt to find the original document in the Science Department's archives to better convince you, then by all means try. However, do not fool yourself into thinking you are _fine_." Ifalna looked at Genesis, her green eyes piercing into his. "But I assure you, this is all true. You and your friend, Angeal Hewley, are both dying from what Shinra has done to you, and I'm the only one who can help."

He stood up, finally unable to take any longer. "_Stop it_," he hissed, "Just… don't say anything more." And so she did, the woman only looking at him unblinkingly, waiting. "I… " He was at a loss for words. "Don't bother telling Fenrir I stopped by."

He didn't even bother to hang around for a response.

.o.

The gnawing feeling didn't leave him.

.o.

He had told himself he wouldn't let himself get caught up in Ifalna's words, would only do the cursory investigation until he found enough to prove her wrong. But as he had found himself navigating the Science Department's records, going through the cross-references and looking up all the annotations, a plaguing feeling began to wash over him that maybe there truly was something hidden within all the mystery that was the Science Department.

However, before he could get anywhere, the sound of approaching footsteps lead him to quickly close the browser.

"This isn't the first time I've come across a SOLDIER trying to hack into the Science Department's archives, but never has it been a First before." Veld casually leaned over the computer. "Does General Sephiroth know you're using his login information?"

Genesis slowly moved his hands away from the keyboard. He had suspected as soon as the first red warning of 'ACCESS DENIED' that someone would probably be alerted to his presence in the system; he just hadn't thought their response would be so fast. That and he hadn't thought that the information he was looking for would have so many layers of protection. Which was another troubling thought; why _would _there be so many layers? The Science Department had their fair share of secrets, but with Sephiroth's clearance level, it shouldn't have been _that _hard to access anything.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

Veld folded his arms. "So you weren't poking around top-level files."

"These are just the cadet records," Genesis said, gesturing towards the screen. Thank the Goddess for alt-f4.

Veld just him a long stare. Genesis didn't dare look away, didn't dare _breathe _at that moment. "Well... considering your assistance for that one...incident," the man finally said, "I suppose I can overlook this. _Just this once_." The warning shrouding the older man's tone even made Genesis shudder a slight bit. Still, he kept his calm, leaning back into his chair casually.

"What's so important about the Science Department?" Genesis drawled. "Sending a whole team of Turks after one intruder? And now the leader himself for a single, supposed hacker? Sounds a bit _excessive_ to me..."

"Think what you want," Veld said. "I'm just doing my job._" _The man gave Genesis a pointed look. "As you should too."

Genesis watched thoughtfully as the other man walked away.

.o.

"Hey, isn't that the guy from ... Genesis?"

Genesis quickly snapped out of his thoughts, looking up to meet the concerned face of Angeal, and immediately, he cursed himself for letting the other man see him this state. A concerned Angeal, while always with good intentions, was exactly what he didn't need now. A concerned Angeal meant a nosy Angeal, with questions and watchful glances.

"Did you know," Genesis quickly said, "that you have some gray hairs?"

Angeal raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you were staring off about?"

_You're getting older much quicker, becoming more brittle... It's almost as if your body is degrading_, another voice said in his head. Genesis quickly shook it off.

"Just pointing it out," he said casually. "Anyway, you were asking about something before?"

Angeal's look still looked a little confused, but he turns away nonetheless and gestures towards another part of the ShinRa cafeteria. "Over there, isn't that the new Turk recruit we were talking about before?"

Genesis turned to look and sure enough, a few tables away in the corner, he saw Fenrir eating with another Turk. As if sensing his gaze, the man took that exact moment to look up and lock eyes with him. For a moment, Genesis felt the oddest spark of adrenaline rush through him; _I'm going to figure you out_, he promised the other man right there.

The moment broke when Fenrir gave a head nod of acknowledgment towards Genesis and turned back to what seemed to be a one-sided conversation with the red-haired Turk.

"So you know him?" Angeal asked. "I didn't know that."

Genesis began to busy himself with the food on his tray. "Just went on a mission with him once."

"And? Is he as skilled at that video made him out to be?"

"He's..." Genesis didn't know what word to use. "His skills were adequate."

Angeal chuckled. "Hmm, if you're using that competitive tone of voice, he must have some real skills. Interesting."

"What 'competitive tone of voice'?" Genesis asked, feeling somewhat offended. "I have no such thing."

"Then you have never heard yourself talk about Sephiroth," Angeal replied with a large grin. Before Genesis could further defend himself, the other man was already getting up. "Anyway, I have a mission briefing to get to. I'll see you later."

"Hmph. Bye."

With Angeal gone, Genesis found his gaze being drawn back to Fenrir, if only in curiosity. He wondered if Ifalna had ended up telling the man of his visit. He wondered how in the world the man could have defeated a horde of zoloms by himself. He wondered what name could possibly be more awkward sounding than Fenrir.

He wondered, if it came down to it, which would he would trust: ShinRa or Fenrir.

No, that wasn't right. ShinRa was a corporation made up of people, and Fenrir but a single man. And certain people working for ShinRa were most definitely more precious than some random stranger.

But if it was between the scientists of the Science Department and the Turk? Which would he choose?

"...still can't find her."

"Well, Ifalna and the kid's probably long gone by now, it's been _months_."

Genesis stiffened up at the name and immediately gave a quick glance towards where he heard the voices. At the table beside him, he saw two scientists huddled together, their conversation continuing in hushed tones that no normal should have been able to hear at this distance. But Genesis was no normal man.

He turned his ear inconspicuously toward their direction and leaned over a bit.

"It's probably for the better."

"I know you're right, but now _we _have to deal with all of Hojo's temper tantrums about it."

"Planet, suck it up. It's not like he was harvesting _your _blood daily for all those tests."

Genesis felt himself turn cold. Ifalna couldn't have... had she? Was it possible that everything that she told him, escaping from ShinRa and all that... could it possibly have been _true_?

As an odd, numb feeling of shock took over his body, he saw a familiar flash of yellow out of the corner of his eye. Before he could second-guess himself, he found himself turning around and calling out to the man walking past him. "Fenrir."

Said man stopped and slowly turned. "Yes?"

"Let's do it." The Turk beside Fenrir seemed to choke, and Genesis realized belatedly his wrong choice of words. But he didn't dare correct his statement, at least not in the company of another Turk.

Fortunately, Fenrir seemed to understand without Genesis having to further elaborate. The other man only regarded Genesis with a long, curious look, before holding out a hand. "Phone." When Genesis handed it to him, the man flipped it open and began to type into it quickly. Minute later, he handed it back, screen open for Genesis to see what he had just done. "I've added myself to your contacts."

"Don't you need my number as well?"

"I just texted myself," Fenrir explained. "I'll contact you later with the details."

Genesis closed his phone, his heartbeat seeming louder than ever as he realized what had just done. This was the side he had chosen. Between the science department and Fenrir, he had made his choice.

_It's just one man_, Genesis told himself, watching as the man walked off. _It's basic strategy. Anything goes wrong, it's still__ just one man. Nothing I can't deal with_.

.o.

It came one day later:

**Tonight. Eight O'clock. **

.o.

Author's Note: _And somewhere far away, as Reno looked at Fenrir's text from over his shoulder, he got the completely wrong idea. _Just kiddingg.

I'm back in school! So I'll be honest: I probably won't update this until vacation. Because if there's anything I suck at, it's time management.

But anyway, once again, I thank all of you who take the time to review and add this to your alerts and just everything. Special thanks go out to Lady of the Muses and linds0001 for all the lovely writing advice and support.


	4. Chapter 4

**ch. 4. call it vanity**

**.o.**

He wasn't sure what he had expected that first time, but his mind had imagined something along the lines of praying, hand-holding, all that mystical shit people usually associated with the Cetra. In comparison to that expectation, what Ifalna did first felt surprisingly anti-climatic and almost mundane: she took a blood test. Adding onto that was that he was in some run-down apartment in Midgar's slums, he couldn't help but feel the situation was unreal and that there was a good chance the whole thing was just a dream.

"Why did you trust Fenrir?" he finally said, partly to distract himself, and partly because the question had been nagging at him the past couple days. "Before you knew him, why did you trust him to help you escape?"

"I'm afraid the answer to that question will be rather unsatisfying," Ifalna started. "Basically, a week before he appeared in the labs, I started having dreams, almost like I was living this other life while I was asleep. I didn't know what they meant at first, but as soon as I laid eyes on him, I just _knew, _I guess, that what I had been seeing were his memories." She only had to take one glance at Genesis' face to gauge his reaction, laughing at his look of contempt. "I told you, didn't I? Unsatisfying."

"I'm still not exactly… reconciled with the idea that the Planet is _alive_, much less can speak and send visions to certain people," Genesis said carefully.

Ifalna only nodded. "That's understandable."

There was a pause, before Genesis asked, "What did you see?"

"Hm?"

"In those… visions," he elaborated.

Ifalna made a face, almost as if just the thought of Fenrir's memories left a bad taste in her mouth. "Too much," she finally responded. "But that man has far too heavy a burden to carry alone."

"A burden."

Ifalna gave a short smile. "I know he doesn't look it, but he's very, ah, ambitious. And idealistic. If the world were about to end, he'd still do his best to save it all."

Genesis made a noise of irritation at her response. She was impossible to converse with. It was like the woman only spoke in riddles. "But I still don't get it. Where does he come from, what is his agenda?" he asked, more rhetorically than anything. He knew Ifalna wouldn't be so kind as to make his life easy and answer straightforwardly.

"Hmm… " Ifalna only made a sympathetic noise. "How about you stay for dinner? You can talk with him then, get to know him."

_Dinner_. _Get to know him._ Like he was some girl with a crush, trying to get her object of interest to finally notice her existence. The woman made it sound so deceptively simple it pissed him off. As if the man would tell him all his secrets because they shared a meal together. It was _ridiculous_.

And besides, he didn't need her _help_.

But before Genesis' could voice his protests, the woman pulled the needle out of his arm. "There we go. Don't worry; I have a friend who can help me analyze this." She put away the sample for safe-keeping, before turning back to him. "So? You feeling hungry? Fenrir will be home soon."

Genesis stood up. "I'm busy tonight."

"Of course," the woman accepted, leading him out to the living room. "Oh, but Aerith wanted to show you something!" Ifalna gave him a pleading smile. "I hope you wouldn't mind humoring her?"

There was something about this woman that made it near impossible to say no to her. In fact, her whole demeanor was almost too gentle, too accepting. Genesis cast a longing look towards the door and gave a short sigh. "…Fine," he acquiesced reluctantly.

Ifalna gave him a grateful look before going into the other room. "Aerith?" he heard the woman say. "Didn't you want to show him something? … Okay, now don't take up too much of his time, he's busy, alright?"

Within seconds, the girl from the day before shot out from the other room, holding up a book. "Look!" she said proudly, holding it up for his inspection. "Uncle bought me my own copy! What do you think?"

He stared at her for a moment in utter perplexity, when his eyes caught of the title. LOVELESS: the Collecter's Edition.

_That isn't... she didn't…_

As he opened the book and looked through it, he felt a wave of surprise rippling through him. The girl had _underlined _quotes—not even, she had _annotated them_.

And then his heart fucking melted onto the floor.

.o.

That Genesis had stayed talking with Aerith until Fenrir came home had probably surprised the man as much as it surprised Genesis. But the girl, she was just… so fucking _precious. _Precocious, maybe a little (but he had been at her age as well, so he wouldn't fault her there), but she was also genuinely curious of the prose in a way that Genesis had never found in another. In fact, Genesis was so caught up in sharing some of his favorite lines with Aerith that he didn't even notice when Fenrir came in until he heard Ifalna mention his name.

"Fenrir! Genesis is joining us for dinner tonight," she informed the older man.

"He is?" Fenrir asked, looking at Genesis for confirmation.

Genesis swiveled his gaze towards Ifalna in betrayal—she, of course, only smiled back brightly—and then towards Aerith, who was looking at him with this horribly hopeful look on he face. Damn the girl. Damn that precocious, fantastic little girl. For all he knew, it had been a set-up all along.

"Yes, I am," he finally answered.

Fenrir didn't seem to react and just shrugged and began to put his stuff down. Ifalna, however, being the busybody that she was, immediately began bustling about.

"Aerith," she called to the little girl. "Help me with dinner?"

"Okay!" Aerith responded. She turned to Genesis with a large smile. "That was fun! And you're good at teaching." She ran off before Genesis could respond.

It was only when Fenrir sat down beside him that Genesis had realized what had happened; Ifalna had basically left the two of them alone. Manipulative, tricky woman.

Still, Fenrir didn't seem to mind Genesis' company so much as he relaxed beside him. The man had taken off his blazer and tie, and had unbuttoned his white dress shirt slightly as he leaned back into the couch. Yet even that simple move of relaxation seemed heavy; or was it just Ifalna's words coming back to him? _That man has far too heavy a burden to carry alone._

"Long day?" Genesis found himself asking, a second later berating himself at that inane turn of conversation. Small talk. He didn't _do _small talk.

Fenrir gave him a pensive, sidelong glance, as if curious that he had initiated the conversation. "I suppose," the man mused thoughtfully. "Rufus Shinra can be quite… the troubling kid to watch over."

Genesis let out an unkind snort. "You mean obnoxious."

The man gave a crooked smile. "That's one way to put it." He turned an interested gaze upon Genesis . "And… how was your day?"

"Fine," Genesis replied loftily, deciding not to make a sarcastic remark about becoming a guinea pig for a nosy, busybody woman. "Feeling a little restless. Angeal's out of town, so I'm out of sparring partners."

"And the General?"

"Busy being a mascot for the company."

There was flit of a smile that crossed across the man's face at the phrase, almost like enjoying an inside joke. "Sounds like _quite_ the predicament."

"Well, you know anyone you might be interested in helping relieve my boredom?" Genesis asked. He looked at the other man, daring him to rise to the challenge.

"Depends," Fenrir answered vaguely. "When?"

"Tomorrow, 5pm. SOLDIER training room."

Fenrir gave Genesis an appraising look. "We'll see."

.o.

As much as Genesis found himself dreading the dinner that he was somehow coerced into attending, it hadn't been that bad of an affair. Despite not being blood-related to Aerith and Ifalna, it was surprising how well Fenrir fit into their dynamic, as if he had lived with them all his life. As Aerith excitedly went over what happened in school (where Ifalna informed him that she was enrolled under the name "Emory Wallace"), Fenrir had listened attentively.

If there was one thing that Genesis learned from the dinner, it was that Fenrir certainly wasn't a conversationalist. When the man spoke, his manner made it seem as though every word chosen carefully and even after that, checked three times before the sounds finally came out. But Genesis soon realized that the man's words said nothing about him; rather, it was his expressions that betrayed the man.

It was as plain as day, the man _adored_ Aerith. When she spoke, there was a crinkle around Fenrir's eyes that displayed such joy that Genesis had to wonder if maybe the man really _was _the girl's uncle. Because could a stranger really show so much affection for a girl he had only met months ago?

But he had to admit, this girl _was _ pretty endearing. Even as found himself taking himself finally taking leave, when the girl had stopped to ask if he would join them for dinner next week, Genesis couldn't say no.

Obviously, she had been taught far too well by her mother.

.o.

Genesis had expected an uncomfortable hour or so of waiting around for the Turk to show and had even brought a book to read while he waited. However, to his surprise, the man was already there, dressed in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, warming up.

"How long have you been here?" Genesis asked when he came up. Fenrir shrugged.

"Just enough to warm up."

Genesis grinned. "So you're all ready then?" His hand drifted down to his rapier.

However, the man held up his hand. "Wait, we're not going to spar using blades. I don't even have a sword to use."

"So? Just use one of Shinra's practice blades."

Fenrir rolled his eyes. "Against your custom-designed weapon? I'm not suicidal. Besides, you already have the advantage over me with speed and strength. It's not fair you get your weapon of choice."

"Fine," Genesis huffed, crossing his arms. "What are you proposing then?"

The man grinned. "No weapons. No materia. Unarmed combat."

Genesis stared at him flatly. "You're joking, right?" When Fenrir's expression didn't change, Genesis only looked at him in more incredulousness. "You mean to say, you want us to… _brawl _like some unrefined drunkards?"

"Levels the playing field though, doesn't it?" The man gave Genesis a long stare. "Don't tell me… you're weren't trained in unarmed combat?"

Well… technically, he _had_ been trained in unarmed combat and didn't do half-bad, but he just so much better with his rapier and materia. They compensated for his height, and worked well with his speed. But hand-to-hand fighting? How long had it been since he had actually had a real fight without a weapon? If ever?

"Fine," Genesis finally gritted out, pride winning over logic. He put his sword down and began to walk towards the middle of training ground. "Let's do this. Watch, I'll make you regret saying I had the body of a girl."

The other man's faced clouded over in confusion for a moment, before clearing, seeming to recall the words they exchanged at their first meeting. "Oh… that." Fenrir let out a small chuckle. "Pity. I meant it as a compliment, too."

Genesis narrowed his eyes at his opponent. "Excuse me?"

"You know." Fenrir grinned. "I meant your body suits that feminine, pretty boy face of yours perfectly."

And then Genesis saw red.

.o.

In retrospect, he probably should have known better to attack the man head-on, especially when he was so obviously goaded. But that realization didn't come until Genesis found his kick caught mid-swing and his center of gravity suddenly shifting as the other man flipped him over. Genesis only barely caught himself and tucked into a roll as he hit the ground—but if his reflexes hadn't been so fast…

As Genesis stood up, he appraised Fenrir with a calculating look. Obviously, the man was faster than he expected—meaning, he'd just have to make sure he was faster.

Fenrir barely gave Genesis a moment of breathe and immediately started his own onslaught. Genesis dodged each attack reflexively, all the while thinking his strategy. The man didn't just attack blindly—each one of his strikes were calculated, aimed at the more vulnerable spots, and even more, the moves flowed from one another smoothly. This man wouldn't slip up; Genesis would have to launch his own offense.

Finally, Genesis took his chance. After blocking one of Fenrir's punches, he immediately aimed a strike towards the man's midsection. Yet somehow, the man managed to block the blow yet again and Genesis found himself evading back to dodge the counterstrike.

_Damn it_, if he just had rapier, he would be _owning _the man. But he hadn't done unarmed combat in so long, he couldn't even execute the moves without the slight awkwardness and hesitation in his every motion. And he couldn't just _lose_ after the man all but called him a girl. Screw it, he was going to _win_.

And so he tried again and to his triumph, he actually landed some substantial hits on Fenrir, though he had probably received an equitable amount of damage in the process. But the _moves_ that the man had pulled out were almost unbelievable; not only were the shoulder rolls smooth and obviously practiced (which was something to think about), but the man's evasive maneuvers were practically on the level of SOLDIER, even able to smoothy flip through the air to land on his feet when he was knocked up. The man _had _ to have been trained somewhere. He certainly couldn't have been some self-taught street rat.

Before he knew it, at least fifteen minutes had passed in their spar, and though Genesis was loathe to admit it, unarmed combat wasn't too bad a way to spar. Of course, he still longed for his rapier, but their something definitely more gritty about hand-to-hand combat and the feel of striking into actual flesh when a strike connected.

"Ready to give up?" Genesis taunted as he broke away from another tangle, putting some distance between the two to catch his breath. The other man seemed to be in the same condition and maintained the space as they circled round.

Fenrir just smirked in response. "You know, what do _I _get when I win?" he asked casually. "I mean, you uphold your pride and masculinity and shit like that. So what about me?"

Genesis snorted. Cocky bastard. "Don't be daft; you don't even have a chance of winning."

The man's smirk only widened. "We'll see."

And then before Genesis knew what was happening, Fenrir was suddenly behind him -did he suddenly become even _faster_?-and one well placed kick to the back of Genesis' knee caught him unawares. After all the sparring, Genesis was just a bit too tired to react fast enough-not to mention still being startled that Fenrir had suddenly _sped up_-and tumbled to the ground. He tried to roll away quickly, but within seconds, there was a heavy foot on his chest, holding to him his place.

"Like I said," Fenrir said, a victorious smile on his face, "what do _I _get?"

.o.

_Author's Note: Tralala, it's an update. Hi guys. How's life._


End file.
